


Death of a Killer

by Inmonitorlight



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24974734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inmonitorlight/pseuds/Inmonitorlight
Summary: Assassin!Felix/Nobleman!Sylvain AU for the Sylvix Prompt Challenge.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 79
Collections: Sylvix Prompt Challenge!!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Feroxai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feroxai/pseuds/Feroxai) in the [sylvix_promptmeme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/sylvix_promptmeme) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Assassin!Felix is sent to kill nobleman Sylvain and fails, which hurts his ego (he does, however, succeed in capturing Sylvain's attention). 
> 
> Sylvain offers to pay him good cash money to hire him... to go on dates with him. Felix doesn’t care about the money that much but he decides to hang around Sylvain and wait for him to let his guard down so he can finish the OG job and salvage his flawless record… But Sylvain is able to neatly keep himself alive AND manages to wheedle his way into Felix's heart.

Felix has mastered every skill required to make an accomplished assassin. Nimble as a cat, he knows how to move without making a sound, how to strike down a target without being seen. Though he specializes in the use of daggers, he's proficient with the sword, the bow, the crossbow, and even a few magic spells. He is not, however, practiced in the art of seduction. 

"My brother is a deviant," his client had told him, "He'll stick his cock in anything walking on two legs. With a face like yours, you'll have no difficulty getting him alone." 

He would have liked to take a more dignified approach, but if there's one thing he's learned about his target after a week of observation; it's that Sylvain Jose Gautier is hardly ever on his own. Most of the time, the nobleman is hounded by his bodyguard - a young, blonde woman going by the name Ingrid. While in an unconventional position, she appears more than qualified for the job, and he would rather not have to fight his way past her defenses to get to her charge. Whenever the two of them are apart, it's usually because Sylvain has run off to visit a tavern or brothel. Crowded places with too many potential witnesses. 

Felix isn't likely to find a good opportunity to catch him alone anytime soon if he doesn't actively seek to lure him away somewhere hidden from view, and much like his client insinuates, the easiest way to do that is by appealing to Sylvain's pleasure-seeking habits. 

And so he leaves his hooded cloak and lightweight leather armor behind to don a dark blue brocade tunic over a white silk shirt. His daggers are carefully hidden, one up his sleeve, one strapped to his thigh, and the third in his left boot. Finally he smooths his hair back, tying it up with a white ribbon. The words "With a face like yours, you'll have no difficulty getting him alone" echo in his mind as he frowns at himself in the mirror. He's not certain he'll have such an easy time competing with Sylvain's other suitors, but he doesn't need to outshine them for long. A few minutes should be enough. 

He goes to the tavern Sylvain frequents, recognizing a few of his usual hanger-ons already settled around a table in the back, drinking and chatting loudly among themselves. He's chosen the right time. Less than half an hour later, Sylvain himself enters with a girl on each arm, all three of them laughing at some shared joke. Sylvain's laugh is loud and boisterous. Obnoxious. 

Felix doesn't approach him right away. He bides his time, waiting until he's had a few drinks among his companions - until he can hear the alcohol start to affect his speech. Only then does he motion a serving girl over, asking her to bring his compliments and another mug of ale to the red haired gentleman. It's an old trick, but it's among the few his pride will allow him to use.

"What's this?" he hears Sylvain ask in amusement a moment later, "My sweet Annalise, you don't need to bring me free ale if you wish to chat with me. Please, have a sea-"

"It's not from me," the girl bluntly interrupts, "It's from the man over there. The one with the ponytail."

Predictably, a hush falls over the table. Felix doesn't need to glance over to know they're all looking his way. The silence is broken by the scrape of a chair as someone stands, and then gradually conversation starts to flow once more.

"Since it's your treat," Sylvain says, eyeing him with great interest as he claims the seat next to him by the bar, "the least I could do is drink with you. I wasn't told your name."

"Your company is very welcome," Felix says, forcing a bashful smile, "My name is Filip." 

"I'm Sylvain. What brings you to Gautier, Filip?"

He needs to come up with a better alias. 

"I’m headed for the border,” he replies, “I’ve been offered work as a mercenary. This will be my last night enjoying the comforts of civilized society for a while.” 

"Then you caught sight of me and thought you'd like someone good-looking to enjoy it with?" Sylvain asks with the kind of arrogant confidence he'd be annoyed by if it wasn't making his job so much easier.

"A bold assumption," Felix tells him, taking a sip of his own watered down mug of ale "but you're not wrong."

Sylvain looks beyond pleased with himself then. "Say," he practically purrs, "I know the tavernkeep quite well. I'm sure he wouldn't mind letting us borrow a room upstairs for a couple of hours."

He's almost making it too easy at this point. 

Felix didn't plan to kiss him, but they've barely made it upstairs before he has Sylvain's mouth on his own, tasting of dark ale and honeyed wine. He's a good kisser. Distractingly good. For a second, Felix almost forgets what he's here for, willingly parting his lips to welcome Sylvain's tongue. With considerable effort, he manages to shift his thoughts back towards his task. He lets the dagger hidden up his sleeve fall into his hand, grasping it tightly. This is his chance. 

Blindly, he tilts the blade to aim for the kidney - and then his legs give out from under him as Sylvain delivers a swift kick to his shin. Before he has a chance to recover, he's being yanked back up by the wrist, his dagger clattering to the floor when Sylvain twists his arm painfully. Next thing he knows, he's being pressed face first against the wall, both arms pinned behind his back. He tries to wrench himself free, but Sylvain is a lot stronger than he expected.

"Why is it always the prettiest ones that approach me with the ugliest intentions?" He can hear him lament, "I was really looking forward to having you too." 

"Let go, you filth." Felix growls.

"One moment," Sylvain says, using the weight of his upper body to keep him pinned as he feels around his lower back and thighs.

Felix starts to struggle, utterly scandalised until he realises he's merely patting him down for weapons. Reluctantly, he stops moving. If he's lucky, Sylvain might miss one of his daggers. 

He's not lucky. 

Clenching his jaw tightly in annoyance, he remains quiet as Sylvain unbuckles the strap securing the second dagger to his upper thigh before the third is drawn from the sheath hidden in his boot. Finally he's released, and he turns around only to be faced with the point of one of his own daggers aimed at his neck. The humiliation of it is much worse than the fear.

"Before I consider letting you go," Sylvain sneers "I have something to ask you."

"You want to know who sent me." Felix says. He won't tell him. Though he dislikes his employer, he wants to hold onto what little pride he has left as an assassin. 

"Oh I know who sent you," Sylvain says, his grin broadening, "This isn't the first time my brother tries to have me killed. At least you weren't stupid enough to attack me while Ingrid's around. I want to ask you to work for me."

"You think you can bribe me into killing my employer?" Felix asks. Part of him wishes he could. He doesn't care for Sylvain, but he's a better man than Miklan, no doubt. 

"I have no interest in killing my brother," Sylvain replies, a bitter note seeping into his voice, "That's not the kind of work I'm talking about."

Felix is at a loss. What other reason is there to hire a killer? He already has a bodyguard, and surely he can find someone more likely to be loyal if he needs a spy. "Then what do you want me to do?"

“Pretend to be my lover.” Sylvain says. 

“...What?" Felix asks, too shocked to be angry right away, "I… What!? I’m a killer, not a prostitute, you swine!”

“I said pretend," Sylvain reminds him, clearly amused by his reaction, "We don’t actually need to sleep together. Unless you’d like to, of course, but I won’t pay extra for it. I just want you to act lovey-dovey with me in public.” 

"For what purpose?" 

"To get back at Miklan," Sylvain says, lowering the dagger, though his stance tells Felix he hasn't lowered his guard, "It'll infuriate him if the guy he sent to seduce me ends up being seduced. There's another reason as well. People are always throwing themselves at me for my wealth. I could use a break from it. If they think I'm already taken by a beauty like yourself, those who only want to marry into my family will lose interest, and those who remain in my life, well… they might be people worth keeping around, you know?" 

"This is ridiculous," Felix says, scowling, "How much?"

"Huh?" 

"How much are you paying me?" 

Sylvain considers it for a moment. "How about five thousand gold pieces a month?"

Felix gives him a wary look. That's a lot of gold for such a simple task. Under different circumstances he would decline, but accepting this offer will ensure he gets to be alone with Sylvain again in the near future. If he plays his cards better next time, he might still complete his mission and redeem himself as an assassin. 

"Fine. I'll do it."


	2. Chapter 2

He's made a mistake. 

Days have turned to weeks, to months. 

Felix continues to play the part as Sylvain's lover, staying at his estate, accompanying him in public, feigning affection in front of associates and friends. Sylvain is starting to lower his guard, getting careless - trusting him. He can tell from how he no longer hesitates to turn his back to him, how his hand no longer rests near the pommel of his sword when they're alone. At times Felix will picture how easily he could pull a dagger on him and slice it across his pale, freckled neck or bury it between his ribs. He's imagined killing him a dozen if not a hundred different ways, yet he hasn't made a new attempt since that initial failure at the tavern.

He tells himself he's simply waiting for the right moment, but the moment comes and goes. The first time they're completely alone together, they're walking in the courtyard. He catches himself smiling as Sylvain laughs at one of his own stupid jokes, and his resolve starts to waver. 

It wavers again when he attends a banquet as the nobleman's date and Sylvain reaches to hold his hand under the table. It's too subtle to be for the benefit of onlookers. He's simply indulging, and part of Felix wishes he would do it more. It starts to sink in after that evening. He can't kill him. 

Abandoning the contract he shares with Miklan is going to be the death of his career, his flawless record, his reputation, but none of it seems all that important anymore when he compares it to keeping Sylvain alive. 

He should leave him, knowing he won't complete his mission. He should run before Miklan has had enough and sends people to kill them both, but he can't bring himself to do that either. He's falling in love with this foolish game of pretend; with the idea of spending his life with this oaf of a man. If only it wasn't all a game. 

"The night we met," he says one evening as they stand on the balcony outside Sylvain's chambers, "you said you were looking forward to having me."

"You mean the night you tried to kill me?" Sylvain asks, though there's no anger in his voice. He merely nudges him playfully with his elbow.

"Yes," Felix replies without flinching, "How would you feel about it if I said you could have me now?"

Sylvain is silent then, contemplating. Just when Felix thinks he'll turn him down, he finds himself being pulled in for a kiss. It's nothing like the first one they shared. It's chaste and tender, as if for a lover rather than someone who's only a quick fuck. Oh if only, if only. 

"I'd be delighted," Sylvain murmurs once they part, "May I have you, Filip?"

"It's Felix."

"I'll take that as a yes." 

It is. He lets Sylvain bed him that night, though he expects him to be selfish about it the way past lovers have been. He isn't. He's giving, and patient, and wonderful. 

How he wishes he'd simply given in to him the first time. If he'd never pulled that dagger, the result would have been so much more satisfying. But he was a different man then. He didn't know or care for Sylvain like he does now. Really, what has this idiot done to him?

They're resting after the act, huddled together on the bed when Felix realizes Sylvain has fallen asleep. The carelessness of it almost makes him want to slap the man awake to tell him he shouldn't just go to sleep next to someone who once tried to assassinate him, but he doesn't have the heart to do that. Before long, he lets himself drift off as well, holding him close, protectively.

It's morning when he wakes to the feel of Sylvain's fingertips ghosting along his side before a hand settles to rest on his hip. "Morning, gorgeous," he hears him purr, and he opens his eyes to look at Sylvain's face, his heart fluttering when he registers the amount of affection in that drowsy smile. 

"It would have been easy for me to kill you last night if I wanted to," Felix whispers, afraid he'll withdraw if he says it too loud, "How did you know I wouldn't?"

"I didn't know," Sylvain admits sheepishly, "I really wanted to be with you, and I decided it was worth the risk." 

"You stupid oaf!" Felix blurts, half angry, half embarrassed, "how could you think that? How could you say that!? You're a fool!" 

"But it was!" Sylvain insists, "It was worth it - ow! Stop hitting me!"

"I've changed my mind," Felix says, hitting him a few more times with his pillow before throwing himself on top of him to pin him down on the bed, "I'm killing you after all!"

Sylvain laughs at him then, and it's the sweetest sound he knows. 

"Still worth it."


End file.
